Nine Steps To Being Human (and other ways to screw up)
by Meer-Katnip
Summary: You decide to become independent. It's not the best decision you've ever made.
1. Part 1

**A/N:** Aha. Ahahaha. Ahahahahahaha. I wrote fic. Again.

Uh, this can sort of be taken as a prequel to _like you never fought a war_ but you really don't need to read that. But it fits into the same universe and stuff so yup!

The main inspiration for this story is the Doctor Who novel _Shadows of Avalon_ by Paul Cornell (great book, go read it) in which one of the main characters, Compassion, gets a list of eight things she should do in order to act human. Those eight things make up the first eight parts of this fic. The ninth thing... well, I added that.

(Also, I should probably add that I'm a _massive_ Doctor Who Expanded Universe geek, and that's why there's characters named Chris and Anji, and it's also partly the reason why Terra has such a specific shirt (no one will know that one tbh). So yes.)

Um, I don't own Undertale, Doctor Who, The Hobbit, or anything else mentioned/referenced. The only people I do own are the characters that I quite obviously made up, since they're all two-dimensional and horribly written and blah

* * *

 _1\. Live among humans_

On your twenty-first birthday, you- Frisk Dreemurr- decide to become independent.

It's not the best decision you've ever made, since it means saying goodbye to your friends and family ("Text me often, my child!" Mom tells you, sweeping you up in a massive goat hug) and enduring tirades from Undyne and Papyrus (angry and tearful, respectively) about how much they'll miss you- and how on _earth_ are you going to continue their cooking lessons now? (What do you _mean,_ no cooking lessons?! Won't you miss the great Papyrus's majestic spaghetti dishes?)

It's not that you don't want to be around your friends, or that you don't love them anymore, or anything like that- it's just that you want to strike out on your own a while. You are, after all, a fully grown adult, and you can do this sort of thing if you want. It's your choice.

So your decision is made, and after a while, your most precious items are packed up into a bag, and your room is cleaned out- although Mom says she'll keep it clear for you, since you'll always have a place in her house.

You wave goodbye to everyone, and catch the morning train to the nearest human city. You've rented an apartment in advance. It looked nice enough when you viewed pictures of it on the internet- small, cozy and functional, and surrounded by quite a few friendly (human) tenants.

As you stare out the slightly grimy window of the train, you realize that you're actually looking forwards to this. It'll be another adventure, just like the one you had in the Underground. You'll be on your own, making your own way in life. And it's not like you're gone forever- you can go back and visit your family whenever you like.

Your phone buzzes, bouncing against your lap, and you slide it out of your pocket after a moment's hesitation.

ALPHYS updated their status.

* _omg missing the human already! hope they call us soon :)_

Your throat unexpectedly tightens up, and you shove the phone back into your pocket. This isn't helpful in the least.

To distract yourself from the rising sensation that you've done something wrong and irreversible, you pull out your spiral-bound blue-and-purple notebook from your bag, and lean back against the rocking motion of the train, flipping to the first page. You've written a list of things to get done. To make you feel like a human again, instead of a monster- one of the monsters. (Not that there's anything wrong with being a monster.)

Eight things.

You tug a pen from your jacket, and doodle idly in the margins around your list. None of them have been completed yet, but that's fine. There's plenty of time to get things done. You have all the time in the world. You're not worried.

You're really not.

* * *

 _2\. Make friends_

You move into your flat (32C), and it's every bit as small, cozy, and functional as you hoped it would be. You set your laptop to charge on the kitchenette counter, make the bed up and hang up your clothes in the wardrobe. Then you spend nearly half an hour on the sofa in the living area, debating whether to put up pictures of your monster family or not. On one hand, you really want to have them hanging around the apartment. Somehow, their presence- photographed or otherwise- seems to brighten up any building.

On the other hand, not all humans are exactly okay with the fact that monsters are prowling around on the surface. If anyone else sees them, they might get the wrong impression, although you're not quite sure what that impression might be.

In the end, you decide to fix most of your photos to the bulletin board in your new room, where any potential visitors are unlikely to go. You're pinning the last image- of you and Mettaton posing together at last year's Christmas party- when the doorbell rings.

You pat the board absently, and rush off to the door, quickly throwing it open.

A girl with messy dyed-black hair is standing on the other side, scratching at her neck with one hand, and holding a foil-wrapped plate in the other. She's wearing ripped blue-grey jeans and a faded T-shirt that says 'KEEP THE LEAP' in big, bold letters. She brightens when she sees you- although you probably look like a mess- and holds up the plate for you to take. "Hi! I'm Terra. Heard that we were getting a new neighbour, and I wanted to welcome you to the family." She turns, and points across the hallway. "I'm in number 38, come over any time. I throw the best parties 'round here."

You laugh and nod politely, and lift the foil to peek underneath. There's three slices of some sort of pie, which suddenly makes you feel rather homesick. You nearly raise your hands to start signing a reply, but then you realize that she probably won't know ASL. You swallow, hard, and force a reply out. "I'm Frisk. Um, thanks, I guess. I'm just moving in, so it's a bit messy, but-?" You gesture vaguely over your shoulder into your flat, and she takes that as an invitation to come in.

You shut the door behind you as Terra falls onto your couch, crossing her legs casually, and talking at sixty miles an hour. "There's a bunch of us around here. Nic's just next door to you on the right, and he's a right old laugh sometimes- the resident comedian- and Anji's on the next floor, but she comes over whenever we watch movies and shit. She's, like, the geekiest person ever but she's great, don't judge her on that, you should see her at pub quizzes. And then there's Martha, she's kinda into all that New Age-y crap, but she cooks the _best_ brownies, she made the pumpkin pie for you, also Chris, he's just across-"

You kind of tune her out, and you slide the plate of pie into your fridge, where it joins the freshly bought cheese, milk, and butter that you got at the train station. You close the door with a hiss of cold air, and return to the couch, where Terra's stopped talking and is looking at you sort of expectantly, apparently waiting for you to offer some information in return.

"So?" she asks when you don't say anything. "Why did you come here? Study or work or whatever?"

"I needed to get away," you reply shortly, and the look on your face must have said something, even though you really didn't mean it, because Terra nods and changes the subject.

"We're having a movie marathon tomorrow night," she says, eyes widening. She's got a light layer pale of green eyeshadow on, which really shouldn't look good on her but somehow does. "At nine, my flat. Wanna come?"

You hesitate.

"We're watching _The Hobbit,_ " she adds, and you relent.

"Sure," you decide. "I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

She winks at you, rising to her feet. "If you want. Food sounds good, though." She makes for the door. "See you then!"  
You wave, and close the door behind her, a half-grin spreading across your face despite yourself. You've successfully made one friend- sort of. Maybe.

It's a step in the right direction, anyway.

* * *

 _3\. Get a job_

The next morning, you head off to a cafe on the edge of the city called _Il Fiore Solitario_ (small and quaint with a symbol next to the name in abstract yellow and white) to start working at something non-ambassador related for the first time in your life. You quit your job as an ambassador between monsters and humans shortly before leaving, reasoning that Mom and Asgore could probably manage the job better than you ever could. You feel sort of relieved and sort of sad about that.

During your break, you sit at a table, order a cup of coffee, and check your texts, somewhat reluctantly. There's a whole slew of messages from Mom, mostly worried ones with some hastily-written jokes in-between, just to make it seem like nothing's wrong. Long, rambling messages from Alphys, and a couple of puns and memes from Sans. You reply hurriedly, keeping the messages short and concise. You tell yourself it's to save money for your texting service. You almost convince yourself, really.

To distract yourself, you bring Google Translate up on your phone browser and look up the translation for 'Il Fiore Solitario'.

You nearly start crying in a public area.

* * *

 _4\. Eat chips_

The party at Terra's flat that evening isn't quite as wild and exciting as she had promised yesterday, but you still get the chance to meet new people and eat some food. You aren't quite used to anything besides monster food, which heals everything and fills you with a warm sort of glow that tingles around your stomach. So when you take a bite of a fresh-out-of-the-oven brownie, and it completely fails to make the scratches and scrapes from getting on and off the train go away, you have to bite your lip to keep from exclaiming in surprise.

"She's cool," you hear Nic say to Chris from the other room, in reference to you, and you feel an uncomfortable squirming feeling rising from deep inside of you. You like Nic, you really do- he kind of reminds you of Sans in that he makes the most _terrible_ puns that still manage to get a laugh out of you- but he insists on referring to you as female despite your quietly muttered protests. Maybe you shouldn't have worn a skirt today.

Anji, who has frizzy brown hair that cascades over her shoulders and skin the color of coffee and sort of reminds you of Alphys when she gets into one of her geeky modes- is kind of thrown backwards over the couch with her legs sticking up in the air. She nudges you to get your attention. "Where did you get the recipe for this pie? It's really good!"

You have to blink and concentrate for a while, and sit on your hands so you don't sign in response (which is something you haven't had to do since primary school) before you can get a reply out. "My mom made it for me all the time back home."

"Cool," Anji grins. "It tastes great- kinda reminds me of monster food, yeah?"

"Monster food?" you ask, eyes widening in surprise, and Anji misunderstands.

"Yeah, you know the monsters that came out of Ebott a while back? My cousin's friends with this hyperactive monster called, uh, Temmie, or something? She brings over stuff sometimes, the Temmie, I mean. I think she's kinda creepy, but sweet at the same time, you know?"

There's a pause- the sort that sweeps over an eternity and fills whole nations with its silence.

"Frisk?" Anji asks, over your internal blankout and sudden panic. "Um, are you okay?"

You smile, hoping it doesn't seem forced, and your left hand reaches out suddenly and jerkily, groping for something to hold onto. "I'm fine, sorry. Just thinking." Your searching fingers finds something, and your arm jerks back to the couch. You shove the chip that it's holding into your mouth, and bite down automatically. It's warm and salty and has an interesting texture that you focus on.

" _Hey,_ Frisky!" Terra cheers, practically falling into the room. She's what Mettaton would probably dub a _hot mess_ at the moment- hair dishevelled and t-shirt hanging sweatily off her back, but somehow looking glamorous and fashionable at the same time. She kind of reminds you of Mettaton, now that you come to think about it. "How about starting that movie marathon?"

 _Please don't call me that,_ is the first thing that shoots into your mind, shortly by, _she's asking for my approval?_

"I guess so," you mutter, not really caring.

Martha, who is wearing a tie-dye shirt (true to form) and has a lovely mellow accent, presses the 'play' button on Terra's high-definition, surround sound TV, and all six of you squirm together on the small couch, trying to find a comfortable position as the opening music plays out and the movie begins. You all eventually meet a compromise wherein you're in the middle, squished between Chris and Anji, Nic's kind of pressed against the side of the armrest, Martha's on the floor, head resting on Chris's legs (you think they're dating, but there's no way to be sure) and Terra's sprawled, cat-like, on the thin ledge that makes up the top edge of the couch. It's a bit awkward, but it works, and you're all more-or-less completely settled by the time that Gandalf meets Bilbo and there are smoke rings and wordplay and Anji's started to point out inconsistencies and flaws in the movie. Judging by the massive amounts of eye-rolling and groaning from the other members of the group, this is a regular and unremarkable occurrence.

You kind of settle into the rhythm of things after a while, and by the time that the Company reaches Rivendell, you're actually smiling and laughing and occasionally joining in with throwing popcorn at the screen. It's nice, almost like being part of a family again.

Just after the second movie has been put into the DVD player and everyone's relaxed and excited, Nic pauses the movie, and goes into the kitchen, bringing back several cans of beer, which everyone eagerly crowds for but you kind of hang back, because you've never really had a reason to drink before and you're not honestly that prepared to start now.

"Loosen up a bit, girl!" Terra laughs carelessly, nudging you with her elbow and slopping some of her beer all over the floor. You smile, but internally you're grimacing and screaming and telling her to _stop,_ just _stop..._

"No," you say instead, hands twitching slightly. "I'll just have some water, if you don't mind."


	2. Part 2

_5\. Write poetry_

By the time that the last movie is over and the credits are rolling, and Anji is leaning to look up at the ceiling, trying to pretend that she hasn't been sobbing her eyes out, Chris and Nic have already fallen asleep, and you're just on the verge of it yourself. Martha stands up, brushing crumbs of your butterscotch-cinnamon pie off her shirt, and Terra uncurls herself from the top of the couch.

"Well," she says in a low voice as so not to wake the others, muffling a yawn. "That was cool. Thanks for coming, Frisk."

You blink yourself awake, and start to sit up. "Um, yeah. It was. I should probably get back- it's pretty late, and-"

"You can stay if you want," Anji says, with a bit of a watery smile- she's still not over Thorin's death, it seems. "It's kind of a tradition that we have an impromptu sleepover afterwards."

You consider for a moment- everyone's kind of nice, and you really wouldn't mind staying, to be perfectly honest. But then you remember the awful nightmares you sometimes get, and shake your head. "Wouldn't want to impose," you say, hoping you're being polite and adult-like. You realize that you're trying to act like Asgore would, and that makes you smile a bit.

"Sure," Martha says cheerfuly- she's always cheerful, it seems, which reminds you a bit of Monster Kid, who's probably still back with the rest of the monsters, trying to attend university without the use of arms. He seems to be managing pretty well, though. "Come back over anytime. You're really cool, Frisk."

You beam at her, feeling actually wanted amongst humans for possibly the first time in your life, and walk back to your apartment with a bubbling feeling growing in your chest that's almost... well, almost determination.

You go to sleep exhausted but happy, and wake at three AM, sweating bullets and fingers twisted tightly amongst the bedsheets so hard that your skin's turning white.  
You breathe in deeply, and nearly choke on the overpowering smell of dust, clogging your senses and making you panic. You tumble out of bed, ripping the sheets away from yourself, and stumble over to the bathroom in the dark, not even bothering to turn the light on as you fumble for the sink handle. Water gushes out from the faucet, and it's boiling hot and scalding your skin, but you don't care as you splash it on your face. Droplets trickle down your neck and arms, and you slump across the tiles, panting heavily. You think you may have burnt yourself, but you don't care because you can't smell the dust anymore and you haven't killed anymore and everything's fine.

You get up after a minute, and pad back to your bedroom, scooping up your phone as you collapse onto the bed. Your fingers dart across the keypad, and you dial a number.

He picks up on the second ring.

"frisk...?" he says, sounding as if he's just woken up, which he probably has. "it's three in the morning, buddy."

"Sans," you breathe, and suddenly you can't speak, because your jaw's locked up and your chest feels really tight and you're having trouble drawing a breath in.

"kiddo?" he asks, and he sounds worried, so you hang up quickly, ignoring the almost instantaneous incoming call from him and focusing your attention on composing a text message. You type it with shaky fingers and manage to hit 'send'.

\- _I'm fine_

You drop the phone, and stare at the ceiling, trying not to automatically form patterns in the blackness with your imagination. The phone beeps quietly from the mattress, and you glance down at the screen.

* _didn't sound like it_

You're calm enough now to write something slightly more coherent.

\- _Had a nightmare and I panicked. It's fine._

This time, there's an obvious pause between this and his next message.

* _want me to come over?_

\- _No. I'm fine._

You send the final message, throw your phone across the room to where it lands on top a pile of dirty laundry with a soft _thunk,_ and bury your head in your arms for half an hour, rocking back and forth and trying not to panic or freak out. You wish you were back home with Mom so she could wrap you up in one of her warm, tight, goat-hugs and make you a cup of hot cocoa, which would make it all better.

No.

No, you're a responsible adult. You can handle this sort of thing. You're brave. You're strong.

You're _determined._

You stand up on slightly shaky legs, and make your way to the kitchen, using the walls as support. You snatch up a pad of notepaper from the counter, and grab a pen from where it's been abandoned on the floor. Holding these tightly in your hands, you slump onto the stool at the kitchen bench, and stare at the topmost, blank sheet of paper. You kind of scribble loosely on it for a moment, and then begin to write.

It's sort of a poem, in the loosest definition of the word. More like word salad, really- random phrases and sentences strewn into a jumble of language that only vaguely reflects your feelings. You stare at what you've written, and then crumple the paper up into a ball, throwing it across the room. It bounces off the wall, and lands at the base of a lamp.

* * *

 _6\. Kiss someone (properly)_

It's a few weeks before you settle into any sort of proper routine.

Wake up, make breakfast, catch the bus to work, come home, do something with your friends, and sleep. Repeat as many times as necessary.

On Thursday, someone knocks on your door.

"Knock knock," says the by now quite familiar voice of Nic. You pause from where you're just about to open it, and grin.

"Who's there?" you ask.

"Orange."

You can see where this is going, but you play along anyway. "Orange who?"

"Orange you going to let me in?" he asks, and you laugh and open the door. "Hiya, Frisk."

"What's happening?" you say. "Does Terra need me for a thing, or...?"

"Nah," he says, and you both move further into your apartment. "Just wanted to say hi."

"Oh," you say, and you're about to say something else when the phone that you've recently installed rings, and then rings again, and you wince. "Um, sorry. If I just leave it, it'll go to answerphone..."

"No problem," he says, and the answering machine picks up the call. You've forgotten how _loud_ it is.

" _Please leave a message after the beep._ "

 _Beep._

"FRISK!" howls a familiar voice, and both you and Nic jump. "It's Undyne! Where the _fuck_ have you been? You're not answering any of your calls! Everyone's getting _worried!_ Hell, even _Sans_ is getting worried, and you know how he is!"

Nic is probably staring at you, but you've shut your eyes, and you're trying to pretend you're somewhere else.

"Anyway," Undyne continues in a slightly more subdued voice. "Call back, okay? Then me 'n Alphie can come over to your new place and take you out for icecream or something! And I'll suplex another boulder for you or something!"

There's a pause.

"Yeah!" she adds, like she's trying to convince herself of something. "So just... call!"

There's another _beep_ and the call cuts off.

You open your eyes, and try to steady your breathing.

"Wow," says Nic. "She sounded... loud. Maybe you should call her back or something."

"Not right now," you say, hoping you don't sound too hasty. "It's fine. She's always like that."

He runs a hand through his hair. "You have some weird friends."

You nudge him with a free hand, the other one being occupied with twisting at your shirt nervously. "Yeah, I do."

He laughs, and then goes quiet for a moment.

"Frisk," he says. "You're a really nice girl, you know that?"

You sort of feel half-hot and half-cold at the same time, and you bite your lip and don't say anything.

He's moving closer.

Oh, _help._

* * *

 _7\. Get a cat_

You adopt your gorgeous brown tabby cat from the nearest animal rescue centre and name her Courier. She's sweet and docile, and lazes around your apartment whenever you're out, bathing in the sunlight and getting her fur everywhere. Despite that, you love her to pieces, and you think she kind of loves you back, in her own cattish way.

Whenever you have nightmares, Courier jumps onto your bed and nuzzles you until you calm down, and for that you're grateful.

She doesn't seem to keen on most of your friends, though, except for Martha. And that might just because Martha brings her tuna every time she comes over, although you're not really sure.

* * *

 _8\. Fall in love_

"I hear you snogged Nic last night," Terra says, eyes closed as she lies on your couch. You're making a mango smoothie for both of you as you bustle around the kitchen, so it takes you a minute to process for she said. You drop the knife you're holding onto the counter, where it clatters.

"How did you find out?" you ask, signing _it was really weird_ underneath the table where she can't see the movements, even if she actually knew how to read ASL.

She blinks innocently, and rolls her eyes around from side to side. "Well..."

The penny drops. "He _told_ you, didn't he."

"Maybe," she says with a lazy smile that says it all, really.

You bite your lip, pick up the knife again, and pass it from hand to hand with hands that most definitely aren't trembling in the least. When Nic had kissed you... well. It really didn't feel okay, or right. It felt... almost forced.

 _I hated it,_ you sign. _I wish he would stop calling me a girl._

"It was okay," you say.

"Liar," says Terra, and yawns. "You can do better."

"I'm not sure if I want to," you say, and fill the blender with ice and coconut milk.

"What, you're ace or something?"

You pause, just about to start chopping the mangoes up. "Sorry?"

"Ace." She opens her eyes; sits up, swings her legs off the couch. "Asexual. You don't want to shag anyone, ever."

You shrug in her general direction, and make a noncommittal noise, setting the knife down and sweeping the mango bits into the blender. They slide in with a wet _plop_. "Maybe. No. I don't think so."

"You're hopeless," Terra says affectionately, coming to stand beside you as you turn on the blender. It starts with a dull roar, and the ingredients begin to combine. She slips her arms around your shoulders, and lets her hair flop over, tickling your neck. "But you're kinda cute, too."

"Thanks?" you ask, trying to squirm away, already uncomfortable with this. You don't especially enjoy being called 'cute'.

"No, really," she laughs, and squeezes you around the middle. "You're cute. Nine-out-of-ten would date."

 _Please stop,_ you sign with tiny motions. _Stop it._

She leans over and kisses you, and you freeze in place, squeezing your lips together.

 _Help,_ you sign.

"Stop," you splutter, breaking away, and turning to slam the _off_ button on the blender. "I'm not- I don't- just stop."

She gives you a disappointed sort of look, but takes the point and leaves without another word.

This isn't working.

This really isn't working in the least.

You shouldn't have done this. You should've stayed at home, because at least you don't have to pretend and lie and try to stop yourself from signing everything because it's part of who you are.

* * *

 _9\. Realize that you were wrong all along and you don't need to be human to be happy_

Again, he picks up your call on the first ring.

"yeah?"

"How soon can you pick me up?" you ask.

"five minutes ago, if you like."

"Come and get me." You breathe in, swallow, and start to hunt for Courier, phone still pressed to your ear. You feel a sensation of relief flowing throughout you. "I'm coming home."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **:D**

 **Thanks for the faves and follows, and the reviews as well. This was a fun little story to write.**

 **And, just because I love you all, and I love this recipe as well... (my own concoction, actually)...**

* * *

Frisk's Mango Smoothie

 **Ingredients:**

1 mango

Coconut milk (optional)

Berries (optional)

Ice cubes

 **Method:**

Chop up the mango. It can be into neat chunks, or you can just rip it apart. Make sure not to kill any monsters whilst using the knife.

Put the mango bits into the blender, along with however much ice you need, and the coconut milk and berries if you want. Frisk enjoys blueberries and raspberries, but you can experiment with your own. If you don't have any berries/milk to hand, that's fine, you can just make a straight-up mango smoothie.

Put the lid on the blender and whip it all up. The smoothie is going to be fairly thick, so you can add water or juice to make it more liquid-y.

When it's done, pour it into a cup and enjoy.

(Serves 1 person. Best made in the company of your monster friends.)

(Just don't let Undyne anywhere near the blender.)

(Or Papyrus, for that matter.)


End file.
